If you shall cleave to my consent, when 'tis,
It shall make honour for you.
So I lose none
In seeking to augment it, but still keep
My bosom franchised and allegiance clear,
I shall be
Good repose the while!
Thanks, sir: the like to you!
Exeunt BANQUO and FLEANCE
Go bid thy mistress, when my drink is ready,
She strike upon the bell. Get thee to bed.
Is this a dagger which I see before me,
The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee.
thee not, and yet I see thee still.
Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible
To feeling as to sight? or art thou
A dagger of the mind, a false creation,
Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?
I see thee yet, in
form as palpable
As this which now I draw.
Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going;
And such an
instrument I was to use.
Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses,
Or else worth all the rest; I
see thee still,
And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood,
Which was not so before. There's no such
It is the bloody business which informs
Thus to mine eyes. Now o'er the one halfworld
dead, and wicked dreams abuse
The curtain'd sleep; witchcraft celebrates
Pale Hecate's offerings, and
Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf,
Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace.
Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design
Moves like a ghost. Thou sure and firm-set earth,
my steps, which way they walk, for fear
Thy very stones prate of my whereabout,
And take the present
horror from the time,
Which now suits with it. Whiles I threat, he lives:
Words to the heat of deeds too
cold breath gives.
A bell rings
I go, and it is done; the bell invites me.
Hear it not, Duncan; for it is a knell
That summons thee to heaven
or to hell.
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